


Winter Holidays

by odiko_ptino



Series: Modern AU [17]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Aegis - Freeform, Books, Gen, Jólabókaflóð, M/M, Space Between Worlds, butterscotch schnapps, dick-shaped pastries, new year's, winter holiday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 13:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: Things get festive at chez Icarus.





	1. Happy Jólabókaflóð

It was called “Haloea,” in their heyday. Then Saturnalia. Well, it had a few names, depending on the exact region. The idea was the same regardless of the name or location: a revelry dedicated to drunken debauchery, generally in winter. Frankly, the old days were far more to his preferences, though Apollo tries not to make a habit of sneering at modern traditions. Not too much, at least.

Haloea used to last for days, peaking at the actual solstice. The revelries had a theme of excess… both in food, wine, and fertility. Thus, the gods of focus are Dionysus and Demeter – while there’s no shortage of randy immortals wandering the halls of Olympus, only three of them make a business of it, and only two are likely to provide dividends to the mortals. 

The mortal men used to keep fires constantly lit for the entire period, and endless sacrifices made to the gods: Dionysus and Demeter, of course, but also to Poseidon. Poseidon doesn’t have a particular connection to wine or fertility, and certainly not to the balance of day or night, but the festival does fall during his designated month… now mostly known as ‘December’ in the western world. 

(Deep winter is an odd time to have a month dedicated to Poseidon, anyway, because that’s the time the Greeks are least likely to sail his seas – but Poseidon never complained, since it gave him something to do during the slow weeks).

The women championed the fertility rites, by making enormous dicks out of bread and parading them around, then spending a full day getting themselves in the mood by telling each other filthy stories. Took their cue from Demeter there – people only tend to remember her now as the desolate mother of Persephone (and Apollo’s not easily going to dismiss the memory of her chasing him away from Persephone with her sharp scythe wielded threateningly above her head), but Demeter still had – still has – a wild side. 

Haloea was an excellent time – total joyous hedonism, sanctioned by the gods and executed with good cheer by the mortals. 

There are still traditions like that, but celebrations seem to be more sedate in general these days. Apollo is busier now than he used to be, since most mortals who call upon the gods during the solstice are thinking mostly of the exchange of power between the sun and moon siblings – but it still leaves him with more time than he used to have, since his attendance for these events is purely on the metaphysical realm. 

With his new free time, he’s been exploring some of the other solstice rituals of the world, especially the ones that don’t relate to him directly. He’s always been a little curious; and the celebrations in other global hemispheres, or attached to other religions, have intrigued him. 

In a multicultural nation like Canada, the traditions are as varied as the people, but there’s a general tradition of honoring the winter aesthetic and exchanging gifts with loved ones. Icarus has put a firm kibosh on the latter, since a lavish gift exchange doesn’t fall within his budget.

“’And none of that Saturnalia shit, either.’ It’s like the boy is determined not to have any fun at all,” Apollo complains later to his sister.

“You should do that thing we saw a couple years ago. That was cute, and that’s pretty much an ideal tradition for nerds like you,” she observes.

She refers to a trip they’d made a few years back, before he began spending his time with Icarus, when he had spent the holidays with Artemis up in Iceland. Artemis is a big admirer of Skaði and enjoys taking her girls up hunting there. For his part, Apollo mostly enjoys the hot springs and the strong culture of music and literature still present in the island nation.

But yes, she’s correct: there is a tradition there that would suit Icarus quite nicely.

————–

He ought to have been suspicious when they stopped pestering him about it. Apollo and Helios had been whining that Icarus wasn’t celebrating properly, and didn’t know how to have fun and so on, and then suddenly they never brought it up again. They just started helping him with his minimalist decorations and kept asking to make sure he had hot chocolate on hand.

They don’t even get mad when he tells them he’s going to spend the 25th with his family, and asks to be alone for that. They totally shrug it off.

“Well, I mean, it would be a really awkward holiday if all three of your sisters fall in love with us,” Helios points out, sounding like he means it.

“Or either of your parents.” Apollo’s nodding wisely. “We speak from experience. Best to face the awkwardness when the atmosphere isn’t fraught with holiday hopes or tensions.”

Icarus feels like he ought to be protesting this – the cockiness, or the gross implication that his entire family would fall in love with these two just on sight alone – but what’s the point? None of his arguments are going to make a dent in a pair of egos that have stayed strong for thousands of years.

They’re so good about it, that he feels guilty working volunteering to work a shift at the retail job, so he settles for putting in a late night on the 23rd helping Leroy and Elverna with poinsettia arrangements; and the early shift at the Big Bean with Blake selling novelty coffee and hot chocolate. He’s back by two p.m. and ready to spend some time with the sun gods for the evening.

They surprise him when he opens the door. 

“Happy Jólabókaflóð!!” they sing out, pressing packages into his hands.

“Happy… wait, what?” he asks, bewildered. There’s a stack of packages in various odd wrapping choices (only two are in holiday-themed paper. Several are in ‘miscellaneous holiday’ paper; one is in a paper bag like you’d get at a grocery store; and one is apparently wrapped in leather).

“I spent the winter season in Iceland with Artemis a few years ago. They have an excellent holiday tradition: for Christmas Eve, they exchange books with one another and spend the rest of the evening reading and drinking hot chocolate.”

“It’s maybe the most boring way to spend the holiday that anyone could imagine – I mean, nothing can ever top Haloea, or Saturnalia, fuck! But we’re here for you, kiddo, and nerds like books,” Helios says magnanimously.

Icarus frowns. “You guys… I told you… this is way too much stuff…”

“Most of it isn’t from us.” Apollo gestures to the stack. “Some of the others heard about it and decided it would be fun to participate. Hermes dropped them off while you were at work.”

Icarus hangs up his coat and goes over, suspiciously, to inspect. 

The one nearest at hand is immaculately wrapped in paper that features a pattern of leaping reindeer. He reaches for a piece paper taped to the top; ‘Happy Jólabókaflóð! From Athena.’

“But I can’t give any books back…”

“It’s fine, Icarus; no one expected you to! It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Well, hold on – “ Icarus quickly rushes over his room, frantically selects two titles off his shelves, and hurries back out to the living room. 

“I don’t have any wrapping paper, and these are used, obviously, but… uh, happy Jólabókaflóð!” he says, possibly mispronouncing the word. 

“Thank you, Icarus,” Apollo says, accepting his worn copy of the Game of Thrones book with a smile.

“Yeah, thanks, Mop-Head, I can really use – ‘101 Jokes About Outer Space’!” 

“I figure your material could stand to be updated.”

Helios is about to retort, doubtless defending his sense of humor, but Apollo interjects before he has a chance. “Now open yours, Icarus!”

The stack of books from ‘other gods’ doesn’t say who gave him what – the only ‘clue’ is a tiny charm taped to the top: a silver moon; a clear crystal owl; an onyx flower; a pearl; a –

“…Who gave me the tiny clay dick,” Icarus closes his eyes and tries not to laugh. The dick has a smile drawn on it.

Both sun gods groan. “That little shit Hermes. I should’ve known better than to let him make his own charm,” Apollo sniffs.

“Well, didn’t he used to be all phallic-y? Like part of that gang of Dick Gods; Dionysus, Pan, Priapus…”

“Times have changed! He knows better than to give dicks to people now! Especially other individuals’ boyfriends!”

“He gave me a backup charm, if that’s who it was, it’s a little coin looks like,” Icarus snickers and puts the dick aside.

The books are varied: a book on celestial navigation; a book about a good good pig; a memoir about skyfaring; the Women Who Run with Wolves book (he suspects that one’s from Artemis); and the first Percy Jackson book. He’s pretty sure he knows who gave what charms, but he wants to Google the gods’ associations to be sure before he tries to thank them. 

He’s saved the books from the sun gods for last – they also have charms taped to them: one gold and one amber sun (bigger than the other charms were, of course). 

“The charms are for a bracelet,” Helios says, “you can wear ‘em and everyone’ll know you’re in Club Olympus.”

“I can assemble it for you later, while we’re reading books,” Apollo tells him. “The charms will glow if one of the gods is trying to contact you.”

“Another present,” Icarus tries to sound stern.

“Shut up and open your books, Mop-Head!”

The first book is an enormous collection of Avatar comics – all the original Gaang, the new Korra collection – wait, did all of those even get released?! And now there’s –

“The adventures of Avatar Hien, the second avatar after Wan?! This series doesn’t even exist yet!”

“I got connections,” Helios says smugly.

“It doesn’t count as a gift if you get him something you wanted to read, dumbass,” Apollo chides him.

“Icarus likes the series too!!”

“I do,” Icarus assures him; he’s dying to see what the apparent upcoming series is about. He opens Apollo’s book: ‘Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking.’

“I think you’d find it very vindicating,” Apollo tells him. “Given how frustrating it is for you sometimes.”

Icarus hadn’t actually realized they’d known this about him. He worries sometimes that they’ll get bored with him, since he’d so often rather spend his free time reading or just sitting around quietly, rather than going out to paint the town red like they were known to do in their heyday. He’d been scared they’d try to pull a Saturnalia on him.

But – they’re both voluntarily spending their holiday with him, here, reading books and drinking hot chocolate with him. 

“So………. Do you like them??” Helios asks, sounding a little anxious.

“I do like them, a lot,” he says, holding up the charms and smiling. “Happy Jólabókaflóð, guys. Let’s go make some hot chocolate. I got butterscotch schnapps too, from the café, we can get festive.”

It goes without saying that more schnapps than cocoa makes it into their mugs; and the mood is a little more riotous than it would have been because Apollo and Helios got books for each other as well, which turn out to be hilariously complementary: Apollo got Helios a farting animals coloring book; with the snooty joke that it wasn’t porn but it should still hold his interest. Helios makes a choking noise and says he hopes his contribution is sciency enough to hold Apoop’s interest too. That gift turns out to be a popular science book called ‘Does it Fart? The Definitive Field Guide to Animal Flatulence.’ There’s a long pause before all three of them burst into laughter and start reading highlight passages aloud.

Icarus finally bends and allows the baking of dick-shaped pastries, ‘to get into the spirit of things,’ and then they watch Tokyo Godfathers and Icarus passes out halfway through it: he wakes up in the morning sprawled over Apollo’s lap, with Helios curled up around both of them. He’s overslept and missed his train, so he has no choice but to take the scenic drive to his family’s house with the gods, in Apollo’s chariot.

It’s… not a bad holiday, all things considered.


	2. New Year's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a full fic, but imagine Icarus spending New Year's with the gods...

Imagine it’s New Year’s Eve and Icarus gets home early, because all his jobs close early for the holiday and he’s on his winter holiday at college. 

And he’s kind of bracing himself as he walks through the door to his apartment, because he knows that Helios is gonna pounce him Calvin-and-Hobbes style as soon as he opens it, and Apollo will be there with healthy snacks and historical new year activities to do, but something unexpected happens this time.

Helios pounces him, but he’s not the only one. As soon as the door’s opened, there’s this big shout of “Icarus!!” and not just Helios but also Eros, Ganymede and all the other Erotes drag him into a huge hug, and even Hermes sneaks in because he invites himself into these things, and after Icarus finally comes up for air, Apollo just smiles at him and takes him by the elbow back out the door. Everyone crowds him out the door and even though there’s a lot of noise and talking, no one explains anything as they hustle Icarus into Apollo’s chariot and they drive off (except the flying gods,who fly obvs) and they all disappear into the Space Between Worlds.*

Imagine they turn up in that space, with its shifting spacescape: stars in every direction, as far as you can see, and some of them form the shapes of portraits of their loved ones or other characters from tales they love. They park on some kind of celestial sphere, where there’s a party going on.

Imagine that all the gods Icarus has met and befriended so far are all there: Hermes and the Erotes came with them, but also Athena is there with some Olympian version of Trivial Pursuit and trying to convince Aphrodite to play; and Artemis is there arm wrestling Ares while Siproites and Selene watch (they’ll meet Icarus eventually, I guarantee)

And they don’t really do this according to the Gregorian calendar, usually, but the gods figured it’s been a while since they had aparty so why not do it tonight? And then, even though it’s just another day to the gods but it’s meaningful to Icarus, he can watch while Apollo and Helios start the first day of the new year.

Since they’re out in space, they need to keep an aegis over Icarus so he won’t die. So many gods extending their aegis over Icarus at once leaves him feeling soft and fuzzy and happy, it’s just like a blanket of well-meaning and protection that puts him in a good mood. He ends up drunk, goes without saying; Dionysus kind of makes a compelling argument for it. Drunk and happy, Icarus goes along with everyone’s suggestions:

He does karaoke with Helios and Apollo. They coax him into singing some Greek drinking songs, which he attempts to read phonetically off the lyrics screen but he keeps giggling too hard.

He arm wrestles Artemis (who lets him win, of course). 

He plays Truth or Dare with Hermes and the Erotes which is a terrifying concept.

He dances – badly. Like, so badly, and Dionysus says that in his entire history of watching drunk people dance badly, he’s never seen anything like this. But Icarusis too drunk to care and the sight of him letting loose and having fun is impossibly endearing so everyone gets into it with him.

He plays Twister for about two rounds before Apollo and Helios get too jealous of how Icarus is straddling Ares and has his arm under Aphrodite’s butt, so they intervene and tell everyone to play Trivial Pursuit instead.

He plays Trivial Pursuit against Athena and probably loses but he’ll never know for sure because he finally falls asleep/passes out right on the game board.

Imagine the gods gently wrapping him up in a blanket and setting him nearby, then playing cards with each other and chatting while Icarus sleeps, and then waking him up long enough to watch the sun gods go off to do their thing.

And imagine that because Icarus is still shielded by so many aeges, that he’s able to see Helios and Apollo take on their towering Real Forms and shine across the sky, the actual gods that he wanted so badly, and all he can do is sit there in his blanket, propped up against Ganymede, and gape up at the sky. Ganymede says something about a new year, and a new chance, but Icarus might not have heard.

And afterwards, of course, he falls asleep again and when hewakes up, he’s back in his bed and he has foggy hungover memories of a wild party, but he figures it was probably a dream.

…But eventually, he’ll look at the photos and videos on his phone…..


End file.
